Weekly Birding Intake

This Saturday was another trip between the Desert Botanical Gardens and the McCormick Ponds. The DBG had its usual residents on display, and I again saw the Vermillion Flycatchers and Sora at the Ponds. Though I did not actually get to add any new birds to my List, it was a very pleasant morning with 60 degree weather and some nice photographic opportunities, even if they were only the usual suspects.

Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers were the first birds of the day. It's hard to encapsulate their cuteness in a far away photograph, but I'll have many more chances at the DBG.

This fall plumage Yellow Warbler, still identified by the white eye-ring with the faint black stripe and yellow supercillium (streak above the eye), was the first to greet me at the Desert Wildflower Garden, although for the most part I saw only Lesser Goldfinches today (several dozen too, they were swarming).

I had a great look at a female Red-Shafted Flicker in the Gardens as well, and in addition to getting a good look at her red undersides, I got to see my first ever Woodpecker tongue!

With the speed of a frog and the daintiness of a hummingbird, the Flicker's tongue quickly steals breakfast out of every nook and cranny.

I also got to see some more Lincoln's Sparrows at the McCormick Ponds. This specimen seemed to have unusually large feet.

I met up with Mr. and Mrs. Butler Sr. at the McCormick Ponds. In addition to the Vermillion Flycatchers, Sparrows, and other commonalities, Mrs. Butler saw an American Kestrel while Mr. Butler also spotted some Spotted Sandpipers and the always lovely Say's Phoebe. As we decided to retreat from the rising sun and heat, we had a parting look at a juvenile Cooper's Hawk. I only saw my first Cooper's Hawk maybe 10 days ago, so this is the third one I've seen now in two weeks. Location Location Location!

Some courteous Killdeer stood guard by the parking lot. This is maybe the closest Killdeer have ever let me get, so naturally it was at a very beautiful area...

It was a lovely day of birding, a restorative jaunt in the natural world to refuel me through to next weekend.

Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher

A small and spunky bird found over much of the U.S., the Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher has become a bit of a nemesis bird for me to photograph. I first saw the Blue-Gray at the top of Camelback Mountain. We came upon a very cute little couple going about their morning routine (preening, stretching, foraging, pooping) in the shade of a young palo verde tree. They were either very tame or very preoccupied, and we were able to get within a few feet of the charming birds, particularly the beautiful slate-blue male. Needless to say I did not have the camera with me at the time.
We have since returned to Camelback, camera-in-hand, but have been unable to recapture that great first experience (or see them there at all). I see the Blue-Grays around at the Desert Botanical Gardens a lot, but they fancy the larger, more dense trees there and also seem to prefer staying well behind the "Staff Only" gates. I guess we used up our quota of Gnatcatcher luck that wonderful day on the mountain, so for now I must be patient.
*Update* I got some good shots on 11/12/2011, which are posted below.

White feathers on the underside of the tale are diagnostic of a Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, even if the rest of the body seems just black (like the Black-Tailed Gnatcatcher).

I absolutely love this chalky blue coloring. Its soft, a bit muted, and totally unique.

Early Gnatcatcher Photos

Red-Shafted Flicker

The Red-Shafted Flicker is the prominent western species of Northern Flicker. As with the Gilded and Yellow-Shafted, it can be hard to actually see the colored feathers on this bird's wings and tail until it is flying away from you. I was able to get a few pictures where you can see the red-colored rachis of the feathers, which is a helpful back-up to knowing your species of Flicker.

When you see the black and white speckling and the red lines coming around the tree, you know who to expect!

This female's red feathers were catching the early morning sun pretty well, and she was catching the early morning bugs even better.

I'd never seen a Flicker's tongue before. Their beaks are already long and formidable, but that tongue shoots out with speed and precision. No insect is safe.

Gilded Flicker

The Gilded Flicker is one of three Northern Flicker subspecies, and is found only in the southwest. It sports the red mustache of the Red-Shafted subspecies, but has the yellow rachi and feathers of the Yellow-Shafted.

The yellow rachis, which is sort of like the stem for the feathers, is visible when the Flicker is perched. Since you usually only see the yellow flash of the underside feathers (of the wing and tail) as the bird is flying, observing the rachis is the next best way to identify which species of Flicker you're observing.

A Bird Quiz

I enjoy bird identification quizzes, or rather I enjoy the idea of them. Since I usually do pretty poorly, I guess I also find them frustrating at times. I'm wading into unknown waters here, so let me know how it goes and what you determine these mystery species to be. A lot of these pictures have occurred elsewhere on the blog; no cheating! I always felt it's a little unfair to use super blurry photos on a bird quiz, so I tried to avoid that. It may thus be too easy, let me know!

1.

Taken in Napa, CA

2.

Taken on Camelback Mtn. AZ

3.

Taken on Camelback Mtn. AZ

4.

Taken in Gilbert, AZ, at a riparian area.

5.

Taken at the Desert Botanical Gardens, AZ

6.

Yeah I don't think any hints are needed here.

 7.

Taken in Phoenix, AZ, which is not its normal range.

8.

It's not a Condor

9.

It's not a Vireo

10.

A Salute to Sparrows

These last several months of birding have been fantastic. New species, photographs, and wonderful experiences have abounded with the burgeoning Autumn, and the emberizids have been especially well represented this fall. Sparrows seem to really revel in the autumn setting, in the dryer climate and browning foliage that exposes its fruit to their relentless pursuit.

I had not paid too much attention to Sparrows before I started taking pictures. Unless they were easily recognizable, I was too impatient and lazy to make a proper recording from my binocular observations and later identify the species. I cringe to think of all the great taxonomical opportunities I passed up in my haste, but then again I don't suppose that nagging feeling ever really leaves the eager birder.
With the aid of a camera, I have been able to enjoy the Sparrows and really appreciate their subtle beauty, their aesthetic uniqueness that goes well beyond their eccentric behaviors. It has been my pleasure this autumn to add a half-dozen or so new Sparrows to my List. They have really encouraged my growing addiction to the birding world.

It seems like most Sparrows don't become dull or subdued in the fall and winter months, unlike those finicky warblers. Also, most of these birds were seen within about an 8 mile radius of each other!

This juvenile Black-Throated Sparrow is already pretty good looking. Once his dark beard grows in he'll be the toast of the southwestern male sparrows, and I eagerly await that coming-of-age.

 This juvenile Chipping Sparrow was very content with life on the ground. Although he never let me get close, he also seemed very unwilling to fly away. The speckled breast is common in the juveniles, and the black eye-stripe is very helpful in the diagnosis.

Behold, the stately House Sparrow. They lose their black bib in the fall, which I actually think makes them look a little more clean cut. Despite being one of the most common birds in the U.S., the House Sparrow is still a pretty lil' guy. 

 It's always a bit strange to see one of these birds in the wild. I usually find it a little bit disappointing, which only says something about how jaded and spoiled I've become now with my Sparrow exposures.

The Rufous-Crowned Sparrow was a curious happening outside of the Desert Botanical Gardens. I first saw the bubbly bird hopping around by the side exit as I was preparing my departure, and recognizing it as a different Sparrow, I gave chase. I didn't really know what I was then looking at, but when I by chance mentioned the experience and showed the photos to some of the  at the DBG, they were very surprised.   

My Peterson's Field Guide may be out of date, because apparently this bird is only a very rare visitor outside of southeastern Arizona. This was the first confirmed sighting at the Gardens, and a very special first sighting for me.

The Brewer's Sparrow is what I would call a medium Sparrow. It's doesn't quite have the pop of some of the other emberizids, but it is still a handsome bird when one gets the time to look at it, and they seem very comfortable in their role in the background.

 I didn't have much luck getting close to the Chipping Sparrows this fall, but they still gave me some good looks and provided another new entry on my List. Their facial design and cap is a bit more simple than other Sparrows, so they compensate with a bit more vivacity.

 I was very happy to see this Lincoln's Sparrow while actually pursuing a Marsh Wren around the McCormick Ponds. The light brown on the side of the face and the darker ring on the cheek is very delightful, as is the buffy breast and light streaking leading into the white chin. I have no idea what happened to his tail.

 This Sparrow makes me think of beer (though I guess the Brewer's Sparrow really should) for some reason, which gives it an additional psychological boost to see in the wild on a hot autumn day (only in Phoenix).

 The White-Crowned Sparrow is pretty unmistakable. Their crowns and calls are charming to no end, as is the unusual, darker grey coloration on their bodies. 

They congregate in large numbers during the winter, and I look forward to their massed machinations at the Gilbert Water Ranch.

This Song Sparrow was the most recent addition to the site, and also the most estranged Sparrow, hailing all the way from seaside San Diego. The exceptionally dark streaking threw me for a bit of a loop when first trying to identify the bird, but with a bit of help he was confirmed into the ranks of the Butlers Birds and Things.

I'm very grateful that the Sparrows weren't sparse or sparing this fall. They've made for great field subjects and really helped make me a better, more observant birder.

On an almost unrelated side note, "Sparrowfarts" is an old (1880s) Cheshire slang term that meant, "early in the morning".

Song Sparrow

I found and photographed this 5 and 3/4 inch Song Sparrow at the Balboa Park in San Diego on Saturday. At first we thought it was some offshoot of the Savannah/Belding's race Sparrow, but the dark streaking on the back and breast, along with the facial coloration (rusty and gray cap and brown eye-stripe especially), didn't quite match up to my satisfaction.
The eye-stripe and dark streaking on the breast do match the typical Song Sparrow, though the back seemed initially too dark for it to be the same species. However with a little bit of online research and some consultation with Robert Mortensen at Birding Is Fun, we confirmed that it is a slightly local variation of the trans-continental Song Sparrow.
A fine looking bird for all seasons!

Here are some lighter variations found at the Tres Rios preserve in Phoenix.

San Diego Shorebirds

I had a very nice weekend in San Diego to cap off my Fall Break. We explored the Gaslamp District, had a long walk (and then a taxi ride) to Seaworld, and enjoyed the beaches of Coronado Island (where we had the most expensive and delicious margaritas ever).
There was not much time for birding in between, although we did check out the famous Balboa Park that hosted hummingbirds, Black Phoebes, Warblers, and a pair of Cooper's Hawks.
The trip was not a birding trip, but by virtue of it being a new environment, I still got to add several new species to my list just from our romantic sunset on the beach.
The first new bird was none other than the Eared Grebe, which is the most common Grebe in the world despite its rather humble (non-breeding) appearance. We saw three during our two-day stay, and they were always far away, but recognizable nonetheless. Because the black cap extends down through eye level, it is determinably an Eared Grebe and not a Horned Grebe.

Balboa Park is a massive public park north of downtown San Diego. It has lots of gardens and jogging paths as well as some impressive old-growth trees. The park actually contains several different museums, a Botanical Garden, and the famous San Diego zoo--none of which  we had time to check out--so we did see a few birds as we explored.

This aspirant Anna's Hummingbird vivaciously sought his brunch while some prowling Cooper's Hawks  looked on from above.

After the park we had a lovely time exploring Coronado Island, where I believe we witnessed 6 different beach-weddings and watched pelicans diving after their dinner as the sun went down.

This was the first I'd seen of the common and recognizable Heermann's Gulls, who felt comfortable bickering and scrapping with the larger California Gulls that constantly patrolled the beach.

The seagulls seemed to have camps arbitrarily established along the coast, and they would peregrinate between them by flying very low and fast across the beach.

I chased a lone Willet along the surf as well, and while I could never get on the right side of him, I saw enough of his grey body, white eye-ring, and chalky blue legs to identify the species.

Although his non-breeding plumage is a bit dull, when he spread his wings there was a more impressive display of symmetric black and white.

Another first for my List were the Black Turnstones that abounded among the low-tide rocks. They were rugged and determined little shorebirds with unmistakable behavior and plumage. Although I did not find a Ruddy Turnstone, I was very glad to see this quintessential Pacific coast forager. With their compact frames and quick movements, they made for a very opposite but equally effective juxtaposition with the lanky Willet.

Elegant Terns are also a pretty good bird, good and plenty.

The sun was starting to sink pretty quickly as the turnstones hurried about their business (which was mostly turning kelp). While I tried in vain to capture the pelicans diving into the golden water, there were some California Gulls caught up in an entertaining dinner dance.

In order to break open the stranded clams, the Gulls would have to take them 20 or 30 feet into the air and drop them repeatedly. I was surprised to see this actually work on the clam shells, but it did expose the Gull's dinner to other sea mooches nearby, so it would have to commit to a frantic dive after its deliberately dropped quarry, and have to replicate the process several times.

It was a beautiful day of relaxing and burgers and ice cream and margaritas (not all at the same time). The sun left a golden glow as its final parting gift (along with some mild sun-burn) and the pelicans saw it off, using every last minute of light to their advantage.